


Kiss me hard before you go

by CeaSoul



Series: You're becoming an addiction [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Caring Greg Lestrade, Caring Mycroft, M/M, One Night Stands, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Vulnerable Mycroft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-18
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-23 11:45:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18151445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeaSoul/pseuds/CeaSoul
Summary: April, 1994, Two men meet in a bar. Two men spend the night together. One wakes up alone.20 years later, their lives cross once again. Unbeknownst to either, so much can change in such a span of time. Bonds will be tested in a determined race to make it all work; life never was one to make things easy."Must you leave at such an ungodly hour, My?""The government calls, dear, and it doesn't like to be kept waiting.""Youarethe government!"





	Kiss me hard before you go

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Twenty Years](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2655278) by [immortalemrys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/immortalemrys/pseuds/immortalemrys). 



> This work is based off of one I read and I cannot find the story nor author; silly me was reading on mobile. If anyone is reminded of another work by this, mainly this first chapter, please let me know! I wish to mark which it was inspired by and am currently on a wild goose chase.  
> EDIT: Story has been found and is now properly updated.
> 
> Other than that, the rest of the story is of my own creation. This begging scene, while short, was based off what I read. Do leave feedback; criticism is always welcomed! (Just don't be a dick about it, yeah?) 
> 
> Beta'd: No (am looking for one currently, if anyone is interested).
> 
> Song title from "Summertime Sadness." Chapter titles are from other songs as well.

**April 18th, 1994**

It was an extremely chilly and windy night, even for April. Greg found himself situated at a dilapidated bar, nothing unusual for the young man. He’d lost track of the number of drinks he’d had so far; Greg was too focused on the blissful nothingness from one too many whiskeys. Eyeing the bartender, he noticed the man engrossed in his own conversation with one of the patrons, the woman laughing at whatever it was he said. Greg rubbed his forehead to stifle a groan before carding a calloused hand through his hair, fed up with romance for the evening. 

Ah, that was how he’d ended up here now that he recalled. Suddenly Greg felt anger swell at the thought of Richard, positive the drunken state he resided in was no help. Turning his thoughts away from the path of destruction, he took to eyeing the patrons around. It was a small pub, not quite ramshackle but not Victorian by any means, but the people who came were quite pleasant. There were some older gentlemen in the back corner, playing what looked like poker, quietly chatting amongst themselves. Near them was a young couple, smiling and laughing as if nothing but them existed. Greg had been too focused on observing he failed to hear the protest of the chair next to him.

“Whiskey on the rocks please.” Greg nearly fell off the seat at the sudden voice next to him.

The bar tender had since worked his way over again, snickering softly at his spectacular reaction before getting the drink together. Greg quickly fixed himself, turning to his right to glare at whomever had the audacity to startle him like that. He was quickly stunned into silence, not so secretly looking the man over. He looked to be around Greg’s age, if not just a few years younger. He was handsome, the kind of guy Greg would definitely be interested in taking to bed. Whether it was the alcohol or his libido talking, he couldn’t be sure. Nevertheless, staring at the poor man wasn’t a great start, judging by the worried look in his eyes.

Raising an eyebrow, Greg nodded to him, “Ya don’t seem the type for a simpletons drink. Not with the three piece and what have it.” _Good start Gregory, you drunken dumbass._

The man looked puzzled at the statement, or maybe amused was a better title. “That I am not, but I occasionally indulge in a ‘simpletons drink’ for the simplicity of becoming drunk. It’s rather foolish to waste good wine on bad decisions.”

“Must you be so wordy? Could’a just left it at ‘I don’t like to waste good liquor.’”

“Simply how I was raised, language is an important art to articulate matters. But, I do realize that many here may be too far…inebriated to understand such. My apologies…” He paused, realizing he was uniformed of the gentleman’s name.

“Gregory. Gregory Lestrade, but please, just call me Greg. How about yours?”

“Mycroft Holmes.” Mycroft held out a hand, and Greg couldn’t help but smiled at the perfect imitation this man had of a grandfather from the 30s.  
He shook the hand nonetheless, before taking up the whiskey he was unaware had been refilled.

“So, Mycroft, you said ya like to indulge yourself. What exactly brings you out on such a night? Surely you didn’t choose this night for the sake of being spontaneous.”

Mycroft smiled and Greg decided he could die happy just watching him, “No, you are quite right to a degree. I decided I needed a night out from the terror that is my younger brother. He’s quite the hassle, similar to that of 

“The joys of children, though can’t say I’ve had much experience with ‘em. Not aside from the occasional babysitting for a cousin.”

“Do enjoy it while it lasts, he isn’t truly my responsibility yet he may as well be.”

“Seeing as it’ll last forever, I certainly will enjoy it. But, it seems like I may be enjoying my night more than previously pictured.”

Mycroft didn’t have a response to this, but his startled yet intrigued look didn’t go unnoticed. Greg grinned into his glass, hoping to hide his nervousness. If he wasn’t right about this…well, he’d be having a fight he wasn’t really in the mood for. He watched the younger man’s tongue dart out to wet his lower lip, eyeing Greg out the corner of his eye  
.  
Greg set down his glass before standing up, swaying slightly before steadying. Glancing around he leaned toward Mycroft, who was now biting his bottom lip, killing Greg in the process. 

“Meet me down at St Paul’s, little hotel near the cross of Brook Green and Hammersmith. If ya don’t show, I’ll understand. If you do, well, we’ll see if you still have a youngster’s stamina.”

Greg chose not to wait for an answer.

~~~~~~~~

He’d head directly back to the hotel he was staying at, alerting the man at the desk to send anyone fitting Mycroft’s description to his room. Currently, Greg was spread eagle on his back across the bed. He debated shedding clothing but opted otherwise, in the case Mycroft did show, but not in the sense that was expected.

Having left the door propped open, Greg was expecting to hear the creak if someone entered. Intertwining his fingers behind his head, he let out a relaxed sigh as he closed his eyes. Honestly, even if he didn’t show up, sleeping wouldn’t be an issue with the amount of alcohol in his system.

Greg didn’t have to wait long until there was an audible creek, followed by the click of the door lock. He opened one eye, grinning at the sight of the young man leaning his back against the door, cheeks flushed. In one fluid motion, he swung himself into a standing position. Stepping across the room and placing his hands on the door besides his head, effectively trapping the man.

“See you chose to show up, eh?”

Mycroft nodded, his eyes darting to the left of Greg, “I couldn’t pass up a…delightful opportunity.”

He’d began nuzzling beneath Mycroft’s jaw, noticing the way his head unconsciously tilted sideways. “…Lestrade?”

Greg paused, lifting his head to meet Mycroft’s eyes with his own, “Hm?”

“How did you… _know_ I was…?” He trailed off

“So formal even in the bedroom, think I’ll fix that. Besides, it’s obvious. Watching the direction of your eyes, you weren’t as secretive as you thought. The fact you didn’t become disgusted at my obvious flirtation was another sign, as well as the fact you’re here now, correct?”

“No…you aren’t. Perhaps it would be a lie to say I…wasn’t…searching for a one night stand.”

Greg grinned, animalistic in a sense, taking in every reaction given to him. _I’m definitely going to have some fun tonight._

“Well, my dear Mr. Holmes, you’ve come to the right place.” 

A pause. It felt more like a lifetime than anything.

“You are clean right?”

Shit, this was going to be a fantastic night.

~~~~~~~~

Greg was sure he could keel over right here and be at peace with life. Post-sex was one of the most blissful times of his life. So much so, a glance at the clock on the bedside table told him it was 8 in the morning. _Must’ve passed out directly afterward…how gentlemanly._

It was another minute or two before he realized that Mycroft was gone, the sheets on the opposite side of the bed cold to the touch. He frowned to himself, mentally noting there was no number left on the table. Surely he wasn’t that bad of a lay? Sighing, he did recall the man more or so implying he was only seeking a one night stand. _Suppose that should have been obvious, we didn’t have much idle conversation._

He went to go sit up but quickly fell backwards with a groan of pain. His head was throbbing, leaving him feeling as if a bomb were going through a countdown within his skull. Glass of water should help, but currently Greg didn’t think he had the willpower to get up.

He’d been through many one night stands in his life, yet, he was left with an empty feeling this time. Gently composing himself, Greg decided that despite how great the night had been, he’d forget it permanently. If they ever met again, he’d deny ever laying eyes on the man. Or seeing him in his most vulnerable state.

_Wait…what the hell was his name again?_


End file.
